Looking After the Sussex Restaurant

Although Magner Knitwear kept us busy, my love of hospitality had never really disappeared.

Whenever we had the opportunity, Sheila and I enjoyed taking the children to different restaurants. It wasn't simply about having a meal out. I liked watching how other restaurants operated, studying their menus, their service, and the atmosphere they created.

New Zealand's restaurant scene was still in its infancy, but a handful of restaurants were beginning to raise the standard.

One of the very best was Scoffers Inn, owned by an English couple, Cliff and Zoe. Together they had a wonderful gift for hospitality. Nothing was ever done by halves. The menus, décor, service, and conversation all reflected their belief that every guest should feel genuinely welcome. Watching them at work taught me a great deal about running a successful restaurant.

Scoffers Inn was actually their second venture. Their first restaurant, Nosh Inn, had been just as imaginative, even down to its name.

From our very first visit, we knew they were doing something special.

After visiting Scoffers Inn several times, we became friendly with Cliff and Zoe.

It was during one of these visits that they mentioned they were planning to sell the restaurant for personal reasons.

Despite owning Magner Knitwear and having five children to care for, I seriously considered purchasing the restaurant.

However, in their wisdom, they decided not to sell it to me.

That's the kind of thoughtful people they were—they cared about my family and recognized the challenges we would face if we took on such a demanding business.

Later, in the early eighties, while we were still operating Magner Knitwear, we reconnected with Cliff and Zoe after they opened another beautifully designed restaurant called The Sussex.

Eventually, we agreed to run The Sussex on Thursday, Fridays & Saturdays for three months while they went overseas—a truly wonderful experience.

Sheila took charge of making the desserts under Zoe's guidance, Julia and Phillip helped in the kitchen, and I managed the front of the house.

Running The Sussex was unlike anything we'd done before.

We worked Thursday, Fridays & Saturdays nights, while other close friends of Cliff and Zoe covered the remaining evenings.

We'd arrive through the kitchen entrance around 4:30 or 5:00 PM to prepare for service, and the atmosphere was always electric with anticipation.

About four weeks into our stint, something memorable happened.

We came through the kitchen door on a Friday afternoon, greeting the chef and kitchen staff as usual, all of us probably looking a bit too cheerful for our own good.

The young chef looked up from his work, slammed his tea towel down on the bench, and shouted at us: "I am just about fed up with you guys coming into my kitchen with all those smiling faces all the time!"

For a few uncomfortable seconds we wondered what on earth we had done wrong.

Then slowly, carefully, we walked past him toward the dining room, unsure what we'd done wrong.That's when he and all the staff broke out laughing. He'd been setting us up the whole time. It became a running joke after that—apparently, our enthusiasm was both infectious and slightly ridiculous.

The same chef had a wicked sense of humor when it came to difficult customers.

One night, we had a table of eight, and among them was one particularly demanding and unpleasant woman. Nothing seemed good enough for her.

She ordered a chicken dish, and I went back to the kitchen to warn the chef about her attitude, asking him to make sure it was perfect, wanting to make sure everything went smoothly for that table.

What the young chef did next was absolutely hilarious.

Without saying a word, he quietly sent one of the kitchen hands across to the nearby

Kentucky Fried Chicken store. He returned with a box of KFC chicken which was placed on a plate, and covered it with a cloche.

You can imagine the uproar when this customer lifted the cover.

Her companions immediately broke out in laughter—they all knew exactly what she'd been like. To her credit, she saw the funny side of it.

The chef brought out her real meal moments later, and the tension at the table evaporated. It was a masterclass in handling difficult customers with humor rather than confrontation.Those three months reminded me why I had fallen in love with hospitality all those years earlier.

Working alongside Sheila and the children made the experience even more special. We weren't simply helping friends—we were creating memories together.

Although Magner Knitwear remained our livelihood, The Sussex rekindled something inside me.

The friendships we made, the laughter we shared, and the joy of making people happy over a good meal stayed with me long after Cliff and Zoe returned.

Some friendships begin through business.

Ours became much more than that.

Looking back now, I realise that The Sussex gave me far more than three months of restaurant work. It gave me a lifelong friendship with Cliff and Zoe—one that has endured through the passing years and become one of the great blessings of my life.